


summer slipstream

by youcouldmakealife



Series: between the teeth [24]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>July moves too fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	summer slipstream

When David gets home from dinner with Kiro, he feels shaky, unsettled, like the ground beneath his feet shifted when he wasn’t looking. Has nervous energy he can’t shake, and when he forces himself to go to bed at ten, he ends up staring at his ceiling in the dark for hours, trying to will himself to sleep in the midst of imagining worst case scenarios.

It’s surprising, then, that when he wakes up the next morning he feels relatively okay, and that his mood doesn’t dip when he goes into training. Kiro catches up with him in the parking lot after David gets out of his cab, making enough noise on his way over that David doesn’t flinch when Kiro slings an arm around his shoulder.

“How is my favourite Canadian?” Kiro asks.

“Get off, you’re sweating on me,” David says, shrugging his shoulder. Feels too warm, his cheeks hot. Kiro’s like Jake, he seems to know everyone, get along with everyone, and there are plenty of Canadians on the Penguins. David doubts he’s Kiro’s favourite, knows Kiro’s just saying that, like the way some people throw ‘I love you’ at acquaintances, call strangers ‘babe’. Still.

Kiro doesn’t act any different with him all morning, doesn’t mention Jake once, not even to tease, and David can feel the remains of last night’s knot of tension ease. It returns at lunch break, when he realises that it isn’t just him Kiro knows about now, but Jake too. He mumbles an excuse about the washroom, which Kiro and Vladislav barely acknowledge, ducks outside.

_Kiro knows about us_ , David sends Jake. Kiro’s not the kind of guy who’d use it against Jake, on the ice or not, at least David doesn’t think so, but nevertheless David feels obligated to let Jake know. Belatedly he realises more than Kiro is relevant. _Kurmazov too_.

_so its cool if u tell ppl then_ , Jake sends back a minute later. 

David frowns at it. _I didn’t tell._ he replies.

_ok_ , Jake sends back, and David’s frown deepens. He hits call.

Jake picks up after a few rings, sounding breathless. “What’s up?” he asks.

“Is it a bad time?” David asks.

“Needed a break from training anyway,” Jake says.

“You were texting while you were training?” David asks. He doesn’t bring his phone with him, but he doubts Vladislav would tolerate it if he chose to.

“What’s up, David?” Jake asks, a little snappish.

“Kiro guessed,” David says. “After we got drinks. He said you were acting jealous.”

Jake laughs. It sounds weird. “Did he,” he says. “I guess ‘Kiro’ would know.”

“He’d know if I lied,” David says. “But he asked first, I didn’t just tell him.”

“Fine,” Jake says.

“I haven’t told anyone,” David says. “I mean, Dave, but I just told Dave about me — he guessed about us.”

“I know, David,” Jake says. 

David is more than a little concerned at how obvious they apparently are. He tries not to think about it.

“Kurmazov?” Jake asks, after a moment.

“I haven’t—” David starts, thinks through what he wants to say. “I haven’t talked to Kurmazov about it, he hasn’t said anything, I just think he figured it out. He’s smart.”

“High praise from David Chapman,” Jake says, sort of sarcastically, David thinks. He can’t be sure. Jake isn’t sarcastic very often, at least David doesn’t think he is.

“He offered to fight you,” David says.

“He what?” Jake asks.

“After — it doesn’t matter,” David says.

“I’m glad,” Jake says after a moment.

“You’re glad Kurmazov offered to fight you?” David asks, disbelieving.

“I really am,” Jake says.

“You should go back,” David says. “You shouldn’t skip out on—”

“Training, yeah, I know,” Jake says. “Thanks for letting me know. You in NYC for the media stuff next month?”

“I live here,” David says.

“I know,” Jake says. “You doing media?”

“Probably,” David says. “I don’t know. I have to talk to Dave about it.”

“Okay,” Jake says. “Hope I see you.”

“Yeah,” David says. “You too.”

*

July moves too fast. When David was younger, July was interminably long, no school, no hockey, more importantly, except the few times his parents ceded to hockey camps. But for the last few years, he hasn’t been able to hold on tight enough, to keep July from slipping through his fingers.

The back end of July is training that almost feels easy until Vladislav ramps it up on them, Kiro pretending to cry on David’s sweaty shoulder. Near daily calls from Dave about upcoming contract negotiations, because David let everyone know he wanted to finish training before he got formally involved, and they agreed, but now the Islanders management is getting impatient.

“What do you want?” Dave had asked him, early on. “I know what they want from you, but what do you want?”

“Can I think about that?” David asked. 

Dave was quiet for a moment. “Sure kid,” he said, finally. “Take the time you need.”

*

Kiro has to duck out early on the last day of training, has an evening flight back to Pittsburgh. “Save the hard stuff for David,” he tells Vladislav that morning, and David elbows him in the side. They take an early lunch break so Kiro has time to shower and change before he goes to the airport.

“When you come to Pittsburgh,” Kiro says, then frowns, reaching for his phone. “When do you next come to Pittsburgh?”

“Last week of October,” David says.

“It’s weird that you know that,” Kiro says, but he doesn’t sound judgemental about it, like most people do when they call David weird. “Okay, we go Halloween drinking. I will show you the Pittsburgh nightlife.”

“They have that?” David asks.

Kiro puts a hand to his chest. “Did you just make a joke?” he asks.

David’s lips twitch. “No,” he says.

“You did!” Kiro says, reaching out and shaking David by the shoulder with his free hand. “Our little boy is a man, Vladislav!”

“Neither of you are men,” Vladislav grunts.

“He’s jealous because we still have hair,” Kiro tells David.

David stifles a laugh.

“Did you say something, Volkov?” Vladislav asks. 

“Nothing,” Kiro says innocently. 

He gives Vladislav a hug before he leaves, then turns on David.

“I’m sweaty and gross,” David protests.

“I’m used to it,” Kiro says, and pulls David in, not for one of those ‘bro’ hugs that most of the guys do, one armed, careful distance achieved, but the kind David sees girls do, using his whole body.

“Text me, okay?” Kiro says.

“Okay,” David agrees.

“And don’t get mad when we beat you in October,” Kiro says.

David snorts.

“Okay, I’m going,” Kiro says, pulling away. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“Not a problem,” Vladislav says dryly.

They don’t get that much done after Kiro leaves, comparatively, but David doesn’t ask to wrap up early, and Vladislav doesn’t offer. The day ends the way it always does, with Vladislav checking his watch and saying, “Okay, that’s enough.”

David quits, feeling a bit at a loss.

“What are you doing for vacation?” David asks, tentative. Usually when he’s with Vladislav someone else is there, Kurmazov or Kiro, other Isles training staff. Vladislav isn’t the small talk type, which David appreciates, but he thinks it’s polite to ask.

“Two weeks in Cape Cod,” Vladislav says. “With my sister’s family.”

“You sound like you’d rather be doing training,” David says, because Vladislav isn’t the most expressive, but he couldn’t have sounded more flat.

“I have two teenagers, Chapman,” Vladislav says. “And three teenage nephews.”

“So,” David says, frowning.

“So obviously,” Vladislav says. “Unfortunately, you may have heard something about obligation. You’ll know when you have a family.”

David’s not sure that’s ever going to happen, is pretty sure it won’t, actually, but he does know about obligation, family and otherwise. He felt the weight of obligation before he even knew the word.

“Enjoy Cape Cod?” David says.

“From anyone else that’d be rude,” Vladislav mutters.

“Sorry?” David says.

Vladislav snorts, shaking his head, then serves David with a sliver of a smile. “See you at training camp,” he says. “Don’t undo my hard work.”

“I wouldn’t,” David protests.

“Working too hard is just as bad as not enough,” Vladislav says.

“I know,” David mutters.

“Okay,” Vladislav says, then slaps David’s shoulder. “You did good work, Chapman. I think you’re going to surprise the shit out of people this year.”

“I hope so,” David says.

“Don’t do that humble bullshit,” Vladislav says. “Have I ever given you a compliment you haven’t deserved?”

“No,” David says. It’s one of the reasons he likes working with him so much. Maybe the most important one.

“You’re going to surprise the shit out of people,” Vladislav says. “They’re not going to know what to do with you.”

“I know,” David says. 

“There,” Vladislav says. “There it is.”


End file.
